All Work and No Play
by laynee
Summary: Sam 14, Dean 18; Strange things have been happening in the small town and nobody has a good feeling about it. Sam ends up being the one to pull through and John remembers what a relationship feels like. LimpSam, BigBrotherDean, BestDadAsCanBeJohn
1. Friday Night

Sorry I haven't posted in practically forever. Things were busy, and then my writing was directed at other projects (stories and scripts) that made themselves more present than Supernatural fanfic (sadly). But this story had been lingering for a while, and it had an element that I found interesting. So here it is.

Supernatural is owned by the CW and all that, nothing is mine, I'm just borrowing it to play with.

Thank you all for reading and hopefully I'll post this all in a timely fashion. I'll do my best. Thanks for sticking with me through the absence.

---SN---

There was a bad feeling in Dean's gut. It had been there for the past week and he couldn't figure out why. Without anything to back it up, he was almost able to ignore it, especially with Nikki at his side. She was one of those girls, the kind that look all sweet and innocent, but always know where everything goes. Dean liked those girls. He liked most girls, but girls like Nikki were different. He smiled as she nibbled her way down to his shirt collar. Her hand snaked into the top of his jeans.

"Never met a boy like you, Dean." She muttered against his neck.

"I can guarantee that." He smirked.

She sat back, big eyes and lips pouted. "Met any girls like me before?"

He pulled her close, his hand up the back of her shirt. "Never."

"Good."

She kissed his lips, caught his bottom lip between her teeth and met his eyes.

His phone rang.

"Fuck." He breathed.

She unbuttoned his jeans. "Ignore it."

Oh, how he would have liked to, but he couldn't. Not with a case open like it was, not with those strange, unsolved murders still unsolved. If it was his dad, he'd catch hell for not answering and if it was his brother, he'd give himself hell for not answering if it was important.

"One second." He reluctantly pulled away from her hand. "Promise."

She sat back and managed to look hurt and seductive at the same time. God, how Dean loved girls like her.

He flipped open the phone. "Yeah."

There was nothing but static, he thought he heard movement, like a fight or a struggle.

"Hello?"

"…Dean…" Sam's voice came through. It sounded far away and scared.

Dean's heart paused. "Sammy?" He pushed away Nikki's hand on his shoulder.

"…help…Dean…"

That bad feeling in Dean's gut finally had the proof he needed. The call ended, that was never good. Dean stood and grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair.

"Dean."

He turned to Nikki. "I'm sorry, I really am. Family emergency."

She pouted her bottom lip. "Will you come back?"

"If I can."

"Will you call?"

He paused at the door. "If I can. I really am sorry."

She nodded and he disappeared into the night air. He ran to the car and jumped behind the wheel. It took a second try to get it to start and he cursed each second that went by. He couldn't get the way Sam said his name out of his head. Something had gone wrong, but he couldn't figure out what, or even how. Sam was with Dad and they were over at the Jones's. They were taking a night off from the case. After a solid week of dead ends, they all needed it.

He dialed Sam's number and counted the rings. "Pick up your phone, Sammy. Damn it, pick up." When he was about to hang up and try again, the call went through. "Sam?"

"Dean." He breathed.

"Where are you?"

"Jones." He gasped, like he was in pain and moved wrong.

"What the hell happened?"

There was nothing but Sam's breathing on the other end.

"Sammy?"

"I'm sorry." His breath caught like he was trying not to cry.

It was in that moment that Dean knew everything was screwed up about as bad as it could be. Sam was fourteen, he did everything in his power to never shed a tear. He said that only kids cried, and he was trying to distance himself from being a kid. Even that time a few months back, when that arrow went through his arm, he didn't shed a single tear. Dean nearly did, but not Sam.

"I doubt you have anything to be sorry about, Sammy. Are you still at the Jones's?"

He took a slow breath, like he was testing broken ribs. "Yeah."

"Dad with you?"

"No."

Dean nearly slammed on the brakes out of shock. "What?"

"Left. Few hours ago." He took another breath. "Dean."

"Are you hurt?"

Nothing but breathing, until. "Yes."

"Bad?"

"How long?"

Dean knew his brother well. "Ten minutes. You'll be okay until then." It wasn't a question, it was a command.

"Yeah."

He drove faster, he had to see his brother and figure out where in the hell his father went. If John hadn't already had his ass kicked by something else, Dean would do it without hesitation.

"You still with me?"

Sam's voice was getting quieter. "Yeah."

"Sam, you have the worst timing of anyone I know. I was about to get laid and it was going to be as close to heaven as I'll ever get. Then you had to go and call." He was going for distraction, for him and Sam both. "I swear kid, it's like you have a 'Dean's having a good time' detector. There aren't girls like Nikki in every town, you know."

A soft breath of a laugh was all Dean wanted. "Jerk."

"Seriously Sam, she had my pants unbuttoned."

"Don't need to know."

"You need to know what girls are for some day soon, kid. It's getting embarrassing to be seen with you."

"Dean." There was something different in the tone, the joking and faint smile from a second ago was gone.

Dean's blood ran cold. "Yeah, Sammy."

"Scared."

"I'm nearly there. Just hold on."

The house came into view. It looked perfect from the road. Lights on, warm and inviting, he could practically smell the cookies that could have been baking in the oven. All outward appearances aside, he pulled a gun from the back seat, checked that it was loaded with silver, and ran from the car. He went around to the back door, some habits die hard, and picked the lock. He stepped into the kitchen and held his breath to listen.

A movie played in another room. The basement door was open and the light on. Instinct, the one that could bring him to his brother no matter what no matter where, told him to go down the stairs. He was prepared for any scenario, any demon, ghost, or monster. He didn't expect to see Kyle on the floor, unconscious, pale, with blood on his hands and shirt.

Dean knelt down next to him. "Kyle?" He checked for a pulse and found it. The kid was simply unconscious.

"…Dean…"

He turned and saw his kid brother. Sam was curled in on himself, the phone near his hand. His eyes were locked on Dean, but the fear and fatigue was evident. Sam was covered in blood, a gash under his hair ran blood to the carpet. Blood dried under his nose. He shivered, he was in shock.

Dean ran to his brother's side. "What the hell happened?"

Sam's eyes shifted to Kyle. "Is he okay?"

"Shit, Sam. Are you okay?"

Sam's hand clamped on Dean's wrist and that was all Dean needed to know. "I'm gonna call dad, then we'll get you some help." He flipped open his phone and dialed. "Dad? Where the hell are you? Well get your ass back to the Jones's now."

Sam closed his eyes, but kept his iron grip on Dean's wrist.

Dean turned his full attention to his brother and eased Sam into his lap. Sam hung onto his older brother and shivered.

"You're okay, Sammy." Dean ran his hand through Sam's hair. "I'm here and everything's okay."

Dean wanted to call an ambulance, but he knew better. He could still smell the sulfur in the air and there was a pentagon drawn on the floor. He'd recognize Sam's work anywhere and wondered what the hell the kid had to do. Sam clung to Dean like he hadn't done in a while.

"Dean?" His voice was quiet.

"Yeah."

"Glad you came."

Dean glanced down at Sam. "Of course I'd come." Again he wondered just what Sam had to do.


	2. Monday Afternoon 4 Days Earlier

Sorry I haven't posted in practically forever. Things were busy, and then my writing was directed at other projects (stories and scripts) that made themselves more present than Supernatural fanfic (sadly). But this story had been lingering for a while, and it had an element that I found interesting. So here it is. Sam is 14, Dean is 18.

Supernatural is owned by the CW and all that, nothing is mine, I'm just borrowing it to play with.

Thank you all for reading and hopefully I'll post this all in a timely fashion. I'll do my best. Thanks for sticking with me through the absence.

---SN---

Sam sat in the library, books and newspaper articles spread out in front of him. Pictures of crime scenes and body outlines stuck out from behind his own notebook of monsters and things hunted. He sighed and looked over at the clock, he had been at this for hours now. Dean said he'd meet him twenty minutes ago. Sam rubbed his temple where a headache teased.

"Your head hurt?" Dean slipped into a chair.

"Where have you been?" Sam automatically went to the defensive.

"I swear, Officer, I wasn't causing trouble." Dean eyed his brother. "Your head hurt?"

Sam closed a book and started packing up his notes. "I found some stuff that might help. A lot doesn't make sense. Either it's seven different things or one or two very clever things."

Dean cupped Sam's chin to get a look at the kids eyes. Sam pulled away and finished packing up.

"Let's go. I'm starving." He stood without meeting Dean's eyes.

Dean stood and followed Sam out. They walked the few blocks to the apartment they had rented. It was a fairly nice place, by Winchester standards, and Sam was doing well in school. As always.

The walk home was quiet. Dean knew the kid was hurting, he just wanted Sam to admit it first. That was as likely as the sky turning purple with green polka-dots. It wasn't the first headache Sam had while staying in that town. Sure, he'd had the odd headache here and there, but something about this town made them more frequent. Dean had noticed and even mentioned it to John, where the information was noted and then brushed aside. None of the victims died from headaches.

By the time they climbed the stairs to the apartment, Sam's faint headache had established itself. He walked straight to his room and dropped his bag on the floor. He sat on the edge of his bed and listened to Dean move through the house. Sam wasn't surprised when Dean sat down next to him and handed over a glass of water and a pill. Sam took it without comment.

"That's two already this week?" The conversation was casual, like talking about the weather.

He shook his head slightly. "Just one."

"Is it bad?"

"Not yet." He smiled slightly. "I'm fine, Dean."

Dean stood. "I'm going to make dinner, get some sleep or something." He left the room. He had learned that sometimes it was easier if Sam was just left alone. Then at least he didn't have to pretend to be fine.

Sam stretched out on his bed and rested his arm over his eyes. He was getting tired of the headaches and he was getting tired of waiting for something horrible to happen. Dean wasn't the only one with a bad feeling in his gut.

John came home with fried chicken from the local diner. Dean was at the kitchen table with a gun taken apart and half cleaned.

"Where's your brother?" John put dinner on the counter.

"Sleeping."

John looked over at the clock. "It's seven."

Dean looked up. "He has a headache."

"Again?"

Dean nodded and turned back to the gun. "He took something and has been sleeping for an hour." He shrugged.

John sighed and sunk into a chair. "What's going on with him?"

Dean shrugged again. "Is that dinner?"

John smiled. "And you have legs. I'm not your servant."

Dean stood and grabbed a plate from the cupboard. He piled on chicken and potatoes. He grabbed the milk from the fridge and set it on the table.

"Wake your brother?"

"I'll make him eat later. Let him try and sleep it off." Dean sat down with his plate.

"You're not worried?"

"Course I am, Dad, not much we can do though. Most of the time he's fine." Dean was worried and the sooner they finished the job, the sooner they could move out of this town. He didn't know why, but he knew that when they left, Sam would be better.

John got a plate of food and sat down heavily at the table. He had spent all day searching for information on what was going on. He had gone to cemeteries, abandoned houses and all the locations of the strange deaths. He ended up with a whole lot of questions and few answers.

After the plates were cleared and the food was put in the fridge, Dean and John sat down to watch whatever sports game was on.

Sam wondered into the room not long after. He swiped a hand across his eyes and tried to pretend that he hadn't just woken up.

"You want something to eat?" Dean was already up from the couch.

Sam nodded and went into the kitchen. He hated that he fell asleep from a stupid headache. It was mostly gone though, which was fine by him. Dean pulled out dinner from the fridge as Sam took down a plate. Reheated fried chicken wasn't the best, but at fourteen and being a Winchester, he had eaten worse.

"How's your head?" Dean hit the buttons on the microwave.

"Fine."

"Worse than the other ones?"

"No." Sam sat down at the kitchen table. "What'd dad find out?"

"Not much. You probably know more than the rest of us at this point."

Sam smiled. "Yeah, right."

"Homework?"

"Already done." Sam smirked. "Is the interrogation over? Can I call a lawyer?"

"Bitch." Dean put the plate of food in front of Sam.

"Dean." John called from the living room. "Language."

Dean walked towards the couch. "Dad, come on."

John raised an eyebrow and Dean went back to the kitchen table and sat with Sam.

He noticed the smirk on his little brother's face. "You're only grinning cause he doesn't hear the things you say."

"That's because I make sure he's out of earshot. Know your surroundings, Dean." Sam countered.

Sam noticed a page of notes his father had left on the counter. He pulled them over and started reading.

Dean snatched it back. "No work during dinner."

"One of the deaths was a fire?" Sam whispered, he glanced over at John.

"Apparently. But there's no pattern, of anything, so don't worry about it. There was also a drowning, a freak gunshot, two car accidents, a strangulation and a fall out of a second story window."

"I know." He paused. "I think it's just one thing, Dean. No town would have this much stuff in it." He shrugged. "Maybe a demon or something."

"Just here doing whatever the hell it feels like? Most demons have a set pattern."

Sam shrugged again. "Maybe this one doesn't."

John looked over at his boys, and as proud as he was at their deductive reasoning and solid theories, he hated that at the ages of fourteen and eighteen, they even knew what they were talking about. "Sam, finish your dinner."

Sam looked over at his dad. "Yes, sir."

"Yeah, finish your dinner." Dean smirked.

"Jerk." Sam muttered over a mouthful of chicken.

That night, after his boys had fallen asleep, John looked over the notes Sam and found and compared them with his own. If it was a demon, which it was looking more and more like, it was one busy S.O.B. and needed to be taken care of sooner rather than later. Now he just had to figure out where it would be next, so he could be there waiting. He gathered up the notes and tucked them in his journal. His back creaked as much as the chair did when he stood.


	3. Wednesday

This chapter doesn't have much action, but hopefully it sets up the mystery a little more. It was also fun to put John in a relationship that he usually isn't in. Hopefully I got Sam and Dean's reactions to it right, it was harder to put down than I thought. So here it is. Sam is 14, Dean is 18.

Supernatural is owned by the CW and all that, nothing is mine, I'm just borrowing it to play with.

Thank you all for reading and hopefully I'll post this all in a timely fashion. I'll do my best. Thanks for sticking with me through the absence.

---SN---

John sat at his usual booth in the back of the diner. He had been there for the past week, papers all spread out and a cup of coffee cooling at his side. He'd order lunch or dinner and eat while reading and taking notes. He'd sit for a couple of hours and then pack up and leave.

Ann had noticed him straight away. He had a handsomeness that he didn't realize, and she blushed for feeling like a teenager again. It had been a long time since anyone made her feel like that.

She took a breath and walked over to warm up his coffee.

"Thanks." He smiled.

She glanced over at the books and papers. "Are you a reporter?"

John closed one of the books. "No. Just, research."

"A detective?" She smiled.

"Not exactly." He found himself smiling and trying to think of ways to keep the conversation going.

She nodded. "When did you move? If you don't mind my asking."

"Couple weeks ago. I travel for work, so I moved my boys and myself here." He took a drink of coffee.

"How old are your boys?"

"Fourteen and eighteen."

She smiled. "Tough ages. I have a fifteen year old boy myself. Sometimes I wonder if he's more trouble than he's worth."

He laughed. "Know what you mean. They're good kids, though."

"Yeah, I wouldn't trade my Kyle for anything." She took a picture from her pocket and handed it to John.

He looked at the picture and could see Ann's warm brown eyes and smile. "He's a good looking boy." He handed the picture back.

"Good thing he didn't get much of his father." She sighed. "Sorry. Here I am, telling you my life story, and you probably just think I'm nuts." She blushed.

"I don't mind." He paused. "Maybe after your shift we could get a cup of coffee somewhere."

She nodded. "I'd like that. Eight?"

"Sounds good."

She smiled and turned back to the kitchen. John watched her go before he put money on the table for his meal and left. He had a few hours of research before eight, and he needed to cover more ground. There were still too many unanswered questions. Whatever was in this town was very good at covering its tracks, almost as if it knew John Winchester was in town.

------

Sam was at the dinner table, his homework spread out instead of notes about the hunt. John came in and dropped his bag next to the door.

"Where's your brother?" John shrugged out of his jacket and went to the fridge.

"With a girl." Sam made a face and turned back to his homework.

"Listen, I'm going to be heading out around eight, don't know when I'll be back. You'll be all right for dinner?"

Sam shrugged. "Yeah."

"Your brother knows to be home by eight thirty." He pulled a piece of pizza out. "How's the homework going?"

"Good." Sam pulled a notebook from under his book and slid it towards John. "Here's the stuff Dean and I found today at the library. I think it's a demon, dad."

John met his son's eyes. "Yeah?"

Sam nodded. "But there's not much to back that up with. So, I'm probably wrong."

"Maybe not." John flipped through the pages.

Sam turned back to his homework. John left the kitchen and went to his room. He came out a few minutes later in a clean button shirt and grabbed his jacket.

"See you later, Sam."

"Bye." Sam looked up as the door closed, certain he smelled aftershave as his dad left.

That confused him. John very rarely wore aftershave. Maybe he had to meet someone about the case, maybe.

Sam finished his homework a few minutes before Dean walked in the door. Dean threw his jacket over the back of a chair and sat down at the table with Sam.

"So, what's new with you, Sammy?" He was far to happy.

Sam stood. "I don't want to know."

Dean winked. "Sure you do."

"Dean. No."

"First we."

Sam covered his ears and met Dean's eyes. "Are you done?"

Dean nodded. "What's for dinner?"

"Feed yourself." He took off running for the room.

Dean tackled him and had him pinned in ten minutes. "You're getting better. It used to only take me five minutes, and you had me down for a few seconds." He said from sitting on Sam's chest.

"Thanks." He smiled.

"Where's dad?"

Sam's brow furrowed. "He left around seven." He pushed himself up from under Dean. "He was wearing aftershave."

"You're shitting me."

"Nope." Sam stood and went back to the kitchen. He pulled a box of cereal down and started to look for a clean bowl.

Dean still sat on the floor. "Well, I'll be damned."

Sam turned. "What?"

"Looks like dad got himself a date." He said slowly. "Or he's finally lost it."

Sam didn't know why, but the knowledge that his dad might be on a date bothered him. He was old enough to understand that their mom couldn't be mourned forever, that some aspects of life had to go on, but it was just so foreign.

"You're okay with that?"

Dean shrugged. "Not much I can do."

"That's not what I asked."

He knew what his little brother was asking, and truth be told, Dean wasn't too thrilled about the idea of their dad dating either.

He walked over to Sam. "Maybe it's not a date. Maybe dad just wants a little fun. I mean, he's a guy, Sam."

"Dean! Gross." Sam pushed past him and closed the bedroom door.

Dean smirked and poured himself a bowl of cereal.

-------

John and Ann sat at a small table in the back of a coffee shop. It wasn't a date, he told himself, just getting to know someone. He wasn't against dating exactly, he just had things to do that required him to be able to move at a second's notice. A girlfriend kept that from happening.

Ann handed the pictures of Sam and Dean back. "They're handsome boys. They look like you."

"You think?"

"Yeah." She smiled. "We should get the boys together some time"

John smirked. "Yeah."

"So, tell me about yourself."

He met her eyes. "What do you want to know?"

She took a drink of her coffee. "You just seem so mysterious."

"I'm not mysterious. I was in the military, so I got used to traveling. My boys like it, so we keep going." He shrugged. "Some people stay in one place, we're not those people."

Ann nodded. "I always wanted to travel, but there was just something about home that I never wanted to get too far from." She smiled. "I'll travel some day."

He put his hand on top of hers. She smiled and looked into his eyes. They talked for a while, about anything. It was easier than they both expected.

Ann suddenly pulled away, like she had been shocked.

"Ann?" John met her eyes.

"I have to go." She stood.

"Are you all right?" He stood with her.

She smiled, but it was a nervous smile. "Yeah, I just realized how late it was. Kyle must be wondering where I am, and he hasn't been feeling the best. I should go. But it was great spending time with you, John." She paused and took his hand. "This Friday, maybe you and the boys could come over. I'll make dinner."

The moment of shock was gone and she was fine again. Her smile genuine and in her eyes.

"Well, I won't turn down a home cooked meal. I'm sure Sam and Dean would love to meet you both." He helped her with her coat. "May I walk you to your car?"

"Yes, thank you."

They left the coffee shop and John walked her to her car. He watched her drive off. When he looked down at his watch he was surprised to see that it was well past eleven. He wondered how much hell he'd catch from his sons. He smiled at the thought as he climbed behind the wheel of the Impala.


	4. Friday

I couldn't resist throwing in some angsty and stubborn Sam, I mean, he is 14 and a Winchester after all. Besides, it's always so fun when Sam and John butt heads. Some answers to some questions and things start to get a little action-y. So here it is. Sam is 14, Dean is 18.

Supernatural is owned by the CW and all that, nothing is mine, I'm just borrowing it to play with.

Thank you all for reading and hopefully I'll post this all in a timely fashion. I'll do my best. Thanks for sticking with me through the absence.

---SN---

John stood in front of the mirror on his closet door. He was adjusting the collar of his shirt, as in he actually cared about the collar of his shirt. Sam stood in the doorway and watched, his arms folded across his chest.

His jaw was set, that Winchester stubborn streak showing. "I'm not going."

John met his son's eyes in the mirror. "We're not discussing this any more. Half hour, in the car."

"No."

"Sam." That was the tone of voice that didn't warrant any argument.

"No. Why aren't you making Dean go?"

Upon hearing his name, Dean appeared in the hall. "Make Dean go where?"

Sam didn't take his eyes off his dad. "To the Jones's."

"Dean has a date." John took his only tie from the drawer.

Both Sam and Dean paused at the sight of it. It wasn't something they had ever seen their dad wear, aside from pretending to be an FBI agent, but that usually went with the rented or borrowed suit.

"Dean can cancel his date." Sam squared his shoulders.

"Dean is standing right here." He rested his elbow on Sam's shoulder. "Besides, Sammy, it's ungentlemanly to cancel a date on a lady."

"Lady?" Sam pushed his brother's arm away.

"Dean's right." John turned to Sam.

"I don't even know them." Sam leaned against the wall.

John worked on the tie. "Kyle goes to your school."

"He's a year older."

He looked over at his youngest. "Put on your good shirt."

Sam straightened and met his dad's eyes. "No."

John's eyes grew hard. "Samuel. Don't. Make. Me. Ask. You. Again.".

Dean took a step back. There was no way he'd get in the middle of this nuclear war.

"Fine." Sam spat.

He turned and went to his room. The door slammed in his wake.

"I want that attitude gone in a half hour, Sam." John said through the door as he passed.

Dean went out into the living room where John was trying to rub the worst of the scuffs out of his boots.

"He's going to be miserable." Dean said with a smirk.

"He better not be."

"You can't make him like this."

John looked up. "What do you mean?"

"We've never seen you with anyone besides mom." He shrugged. "It's weird."

"I haven't forgotten what we're doing here, Dean. Ann isn't anything other than what Nikki is to you." He met Dean's eyes. "Got it?"

"Do you want me to ever kiss another girl?" Dean shuddered. "Things I did not need to think about."

John stood and looked down at his watch. "Sam. Let's go."

The bedroom door opened and Sam emerged in one of the few good shirts he had. His hair was even combed, probably because he knew John would make him if he didn't. Without a word, Sam left the house and went down to the car.

"Good luck." Dean smirked.

"Don't say out too late and wear protection." John smirked as he left.

"Things I don't need to know you're thinking about. Ever." Dean shuddered again.

-------

John pulled up in the Jones's driveway. Sam was silent for the entire ride. His jaw was still set in anger.

"Sam, you will be polite and you will leave this attitude in the car. Understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"That includes the sarcasm."

"Yes, sir." Sam pushed open his door.

John got out of the car, grabbed a small bouquet of flowers and he walked with Sam up to the front door. John rang the doorbell and glanced over at Sam.

The door opened. Ann and Kyle stood in the doorway, smiles on their faces. Though, Kyle's was a little less genuine.

"Thank you, for having us. I'm afraid Dean had other plans, but Sam and I are more than grateful." John handed her the flowers.

"They're lovely, thank you." She rested her hand on Kyle's shoulder. "This is Kyle."

"Nice to meet you both." Kyle said, though it wasn't hard to imagine that he had been prompted to say that.

John squeezed Sam's shoulder.

Sam smiled. "Thank you for having us."

Ann stepped back. "Come in."

John and Sam walked through the door.

It was the sort of house that was warm and inviting. The sort of place that Sam had often wished for when he was younger and didn't quite understand why he and his family lived as they did.

"We're having roast beef and potatoes. Is that all right?" Ann turned to John. "I guess I should have asked before."

"No, it's perfect." He smiled.

"Kyle, why don't you and Sam go watch a movie in the den until dinner is ready."

Kyle looked at Sam. "Sure." He turned down a hall.

Sam glanced over at John before he followed.

Some action movie was agreed upon. Sam sat at one end of the couch and Kyle sat at the other. Sam started to get a headache. He rested his head against his hand and sighed. Of all the times, his dad probably wouldn't even believe him. At least Kyle didn't expect much company out of Sam. Neither boy was overly thrilled about the dinner.

"Boys, dinner." Ann called from the other room.

Sam heard his dad laugh. He paused, he couldn't remember the last time he had heard that. Maybe this thing wasn't so bad after all, if his dad was happy.

Kyle and Sam sat at the table, across from each other. Everything looked and smelled delicious. It had been longer than John or Sam cared to remember since they had a meal like that. Dean would be sorry he missed it. At least Sam could rub that in his face.

John and Ann talked about things that Kyle or Sam had no interest in. They were dragged into the conversation a few times, but otherwise didn't say much. Sam's headache grew steadily worse and he hoped his presence wouldn't be needed much longer. Going back to doing nothing other than a movie seemed like a good idea.

"Sam." John looked over at his boy, wondered if maybe he was looking a little pale. "You all right?"

Sam nodded.

Ann was asking Kyle about school.

John lowered his voice. "Headache?"

Sam shrugged and reached for his water glass. "I'm fine. Really."

"We won't stay too late."

He turned to his dad. "No, I'm fine. Really. I don't want to mess up anything."

Sam put up a Winchester front for the rest of dinner and was gratefully excused with Kyle to go back to their movie. Kyle seemed a little distracted too, quite. Sam could hear his dad and Ann laughing in the kitchen as they did dishes. It was kind of nice, to pretend to be part of a family like that. Just once. Even if it wouldn't last and it wasn't really his.

Kyle stood and went into the kitchen. Sam didn't really care either way, they hadn't said more than a handful of words to each other the entire evening.

Kyle came back and Ann appeared in the doorway. "Sam, your dad and I are going for a walk out to the old drive in. Is that all right? We'll be back in an hour or so."

Sam sat forward on the couch. He saw John standing behind Ann, a smile on his face.

John met his son's eyes. "You'll be okay?"

"Sure." He shrugged.

Ann winked at Sam. "There's cake on the counter, if you boys want. We'll be back before you know it."

Kyle sat back down on the couch and the front door closed.

He looked over at Sam. "There's video games downstairs. Want to play?"

"Sure."

Sam followed Kyle down to the basement. It was set up as a game room with a pool table in one corner. A big couch sat in front of a television hooked up to several game systems that Sam had seen in stores and at friend's houses.

"Mom won't let me keep it upstairs." He handed Sam a game controller. "You any good?"

"I figure it out pretty quick." He almost smiled.

Kyle knelt down to set up the game. A fluorescent light above them flickered and then went out.

In the seconds that followed the light going out, three things happened very fast.

It got colder. Sam's headache suddenly sharpened. Kyle's eyes got very black.

Kyle turned to Sam and smiled.

Suddenly Sam knew all his research and theories were right. "Christo."


	5. Friday Night Fight

Woo, epic battle! Things definitely get action-y here, and yeah. John really shouldn't have left. So here it is. Sam is 14, Dean is 18.

Supernatural is owned by the CW and all that, nothing is mine, I'm just borrowing it to play with.

Thank you all for reading and hopefully I'll post this all in a timely fashion. I'll do my best. Thanks for sticking with me through the absence.

---SN---

Kyle tensed. "You really shouldn't have done that."

Sam flew back across the room and hit the floor hard. He scrambled to his feet and kept his eyes on Kyle. There was very little left of the boy Sam had met at the beginning of the evening.

Kyle smiled, cold and dangerous. "I've been waiting for you, Samuel, for much longer than you even realize."

"Me?" If Sam could keep him, it distracted for long enough, maybe his dad would come back.

"You." Kyle tilted his head to the side and Sam found himself unable to move. "Don't be so frightened, Samuel, I won't kill you. Yet." He walked towards Sam. "I've heard so much about you, and your family. Nearly everyone has, where I come from. Hell, that is, if you are unable to follow." Kyle traced his finger down the side of Sam's cheek. "We all know the story of the night your mother died. Do you?"

Sam's heart beat hard and fast in his chest. His mind raced with Latin words for an exorcism.

"No? Nobody has told you the story?" Kyle turned away for a moment.

In that instant, Sam found himself able to move, just a little. Ever since he had suspected a demon, he had taken to carrying a flask of holy water. Just in case. His dad would have been proud. Sam inched his hand towards his back pocket, it was nearly impossible, but that Winchester stubborn streak was showing again, and he wasn't going to give in so easily.

"Nobody has told little Sammy Winchester why his mother died over him?" Kyle turned and met Sam's eyes. "That amazes me. Though, perhaps they thought it too frightening for him. Are you frightened, Samuel?"

Sam couldn't let Kyle know he had regained a little control, so he didn't answer.

"You must be, I can see it in your eyes." He sighed. "Oh, but this isn't fair, me asking all the questions. Surely, you must have a few." He snapped his fingers. "Ask away."

He swallowed. "Is my dad all right?"

Kyle laughed, a sound like nails on a chalkboard. "You could ask what would become of you and all of heaven and hell, but you ask after your father? All right, I'll oblige. He's fine. He'll come back tonight and find you dead, so I can't say if he will be fine after that. I couldn't control him, like Ann. He's far to educated in my existence and it just wouldn't have gone well."

"Because he'd send you back to hell." Sam spat.

"Perhaps, that was a risk I didn't want to encounter." He sighed dramatically. "So I simply told Ann to ask him for a walk. Sexual attraction does interesting things to people. Any other questions, or may I continue?"

Sam continued to inch his hand towards his pocket, he was so very close. "Continue."

Kyle grinned. "This really should be something you ask your father. He knows the reasons why your mother was pinned and burning above your crib. The pieces are starting to fall into place and he is understating more and more of that night." He turned away again.

Sam grabbed the flask and unscrewed the top.

"I really am not the one to tell you, not allowed, but I can tell you this." He turned back to Sam. "It was you we were after that night."

Sam couldn't move again, but it was because the words had shocked him into stillness. "Me?"

"Indeed. Oh the things we have planned for you. Those headaches you've been getting, like the one you have tonight, are all because I am here." He stood inches from Sam and cupped Sam's chin in his palm. "You and I will end up being more similar than you can even imagine."

"If I'm so important, why kill me?"

Kyle grinned again, his black eyes met Sam's. "The purist gold is forged by fire, Samuel. To be your best, you must be forged by fire, and I know just the place."

Sam flicked his wrist and holy water hit Kyle. He yelled in pain and Sam tried to run for the stairs. Kyle held his hand towards Sam and without touching him, threw him across the room. Sam's head hit the edge of the pool table and he fell to the ground. He tried to resist the urge to pass out and tried to figure out where Kyle was.

Suddenly Kyle's foot was on top of Sam's chest and slowly pressing the air from his lungs. Sam gasped for breath and felt a rib crack. He met Kyle's eyes.

"I didn't want to kill you yet, but you aren't playing fair. So, you leave me no choice." He smiled. "Do you want to go slowly?"

"No." Sam managed with his last breath.

He still held the flask of holy water, but he needed a better plan. Kyle was still pressing down on Sam's chest. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a marker. He reached towards it and managed to wrap his fingers around it. A fist landed against Sam's jaw and he blinked the blackness from his vision. He tasted blood, he didn't want to die, tasting his own blood.

Sam threw the holy water once more and rolled to his knees as Kyle flew back. Sam didn't have time to think about how much his chest hurt, or how dizzy he was, or how he really just wanted to pass out. He drew a pentagon of protection as fast as he could and hoped that Kyle would be gone long enough for him to finish it.

He was grabbed from behind and hated that he had been caught unaware. Sam struggled, but lacked the strength, even if the fight wasn't so one sided he still wouldn't have won in his condition. Sam kicked and fought, but it was no use. His flask of holy water was empty and the pentagon was uncompleted.

"My dad's…gonna….kill you." He gasped.

"Perhaps, but not before I kill you. Samuel, nobody will come for you. Nobody, because they all know who you really are."

"Dean will." Sam remembered how Dean always managed to show up at the right moment.

"No. Nobody is coming, Samuel. Just stop fighting and let me take you. Your father and your brother are afraid of you, that is the only reason why they haven't left you. With you gone, they will be free."

"Lies." Sam breathed.

If pity could warm the eyes of a demon, then it would have in Kyle's. "I wish I could lie to you, Samuel."

Sam was starting to black out, he couldn't fight it much longer. The exorcism would have been better if he could have said it from inside the pentagon, but it didn't look like that would be happening.

He took his last chance at a breath. "Regna terrae, cantate Deo, psallite Domino qui fertis super caelum caeli ad Orientem Ecce dabit voci suae vocem virtutis, tribuite virtutem deo."

The words were hardly said above a whisper, but it worked. Kyle's grip around his neck loosened some.

"Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica."

Kyle let go of Sam and staggered back. "Stop, Samuel." The words tainted the air with sulfur.

Sam fell forward to his knees, but didn't stop. "Ergo draco maledicte et omnis legio diabolica adjuramus te. cessa decipere humanas creaturas, eisque aeternae Perditionis venenum propinare."

Blood ran from Kyle's nose as he fell to his knees. His blood mixed with Sam's blood on his hands. "Sam?" The demon was nearly gone, the real Kyle had spoken then, terrified.

Sam wanted to assure him that it would be all right, but he had to finish it, god he was tired. "Terribilis Deus de sanctuario suo. Deus Israhel ipse truderit virtutem et fortitudinem plebi Suae. Benedictus deus. Gloria patri."

Kyle fell back, unconscious before he hit the ground. The demon was back in hell and Sam was struggling to hold onto consciousness. He lay down on the floor and wrapped his arm protectively around his chest. Now that he was out of immediate danger of being killed, the pain came rocketing to him. He fished his phone from his pocket and dialed the one number he knew by heart.

His brother's voice on the other end was the best thing Sam had heard all night. Dean had answered, he hadn't left, he'd still come back. "….Dean…"

-------

Translation of the Latin:

Kingdoms of the Earth, sing unto God, Praises to the Lord that carry above the sky

of heaven to the East. Behold, He sends forth His Own Voice, the Voice of Virtue. Attribute the Virtue to God. We exorcise you, every impure spirit, every satanic power, every incursion of the infernal adversary, every legion, every congregation and diabolical sect. Thus, cursed demon and every diabolical legion, we adjure you. Cease to deceive human creatures, and to give to them the Poison of Eternal Perdition. God is frightening about his own sacred place. The God of Israel Himself will have thrust excellence

and strength to His Own people. Blessed God. The Glory of the Father.


	6. Friday Night Continued

One more chapter after this, I think. Still a loose end or two to tie up. Thanks for reading, it's been nice to be able to finish a fanfic, something I've had trouble doing for a while. I'd start them and they'd fizzle out after a chapter or two. Thank you all for the reviews that kept me motivated to keep writing. So here it is. Sam is 14, Dean is 18.

Supernatural is owned by the CW and all that, nothing is mine, I'm just borrowing it to play with.

Thank you all for reading and hopefully I'll post this all in a timely fashion. I'll do my best. Thanks for sticking with me through the absence.

---SN---

"Dean." Sam shifted.

Dean looked at his brother. "Yeah, Sammy."

"I want to go home." He spoke with his eyes closed.

"Soon."

A door slammed upstairs. Dean glanced down at his brother in his arms.

"Dean. Pentagon." Sam tried to sit up.

"I got it." He eased Sam onto the ground.

Dean kicked a rug over the pentagon just as John came running down the stairs. John immediately looked to Dean. "What happened?"

"How was your walk?" Dean's words were hard.

"Dean, not now."

Ann came down behind John and saw Kyle. She pushed past John and went to her son. John and Dean went over to Sam who was still trying to sit up.

"Sam." John met his son's eyes. "What happened?"

Sam looked over at Ann as she gently brushed Kyle's hair away from his face. "Kyle had a headache and his nose started bleeding. I went upstairs to see if you were back, but there was nobody there. When I was coming back down, I tripped on the stairs." He was aware that Ann was listening to every word he said. "That was when I called Dean."

John knew none of it was true, he could smell the sulfur in the air. "I'll call an ambulance."

Sam grabbed John's wrist. "No."

"For Kyle." John stood. "Dean, get him to the car."

John pulled out his cell phone and called an ambulance. Dean carefully helped Sam to his feet. He was unsteady and tense with pain.

"You sure you can make it?"

"Yeah." He gasped.

"We could wait for the ambulance."

"No."

Dean helped his brother up the stairs. By the time Dean had eased Sam into the front seat of the car, the ambulance pulled up to the house. They watched the paramedics run inside. Dean stood next to the open car door and waited for their dad to come out of the house.

"When dad gets back here, I'm gonna kick his ass." Dean muttered.

Sam shrugged. He was too tired and hurt to be mad at anyone for what they did or didn't do at the time.

Dean sighed. "It's my fault, too."

"What?"

"I wasn't here, either."

"Shut up." He shifted in the seat and winced as the pain sharpened.

Dean turned to him. "You okay?"

"I guess." He reached over and grabbed Dean's wrist.

He turned to Sam. "It's okay, Sammy. You're okay."

The paramedics came out with Kyle on a gurney. Ann and John followed them out. Ann climbed into the ambulance with her son and it pulled away. John walked over to his boys.

"Meet you back at the apartment." Dean stated and closed Sam's door.

John was left standing alone in the yard as Dean pulled away. He sighed and walked towards his car.

By the time John arrived home, Dean had already gotten Sam into the apartment. Sam was on the couch when he came in.

John knelt next to his son. "You okay?"

Sam nodded. "Dean's mad at you."

"I gathered as much. Are you?"

He shrugged. "Told you I didn't want to go."

John smiled a little. "Yeah, you did."

Dean cleared his throat. John turned and saw him holding the first aid kit. He stepped out of Dean's way. Dean sat on the edge of the coffee table and opened the first aid kit.

"What's the worst, Smamy?" He looked up into his brother's eyes.

"Everything?" He smiled a little. "Think my ribs are broken."

"All the blood on your shirt from your face and head?"

Sam paused. "Think so?" He sat forward and carefully pulled his shirt off.

Dean stepped in to help when Sam's sharp intake of breath signaled pain. Sam's chest was already bruised. Ordinarily he would have been embarrassed to be taken care of like that, but he was too hurt and tired and relieved that his family would still help him to care.

John moved to the arm of the couch and helped Sam sit forward as Dean taped up his ribs. Dean shot John a look, but didn't say anything.

"Dean." Sam sighed.

"Yeah, kid."

"Let it go."

Dean turned to Sam. "What?"

Sam sighed a little, then winced. "None of us knew it would happen." He paused. "I'm tired."

"Yeah, well. No sleeping yet. I want to check out your head."

Oh yeah, that would explain the persistent throbbing in his skull. He had forgotten about the pool table.

Dean shined a light into Sam's eyes and he tried to ignore the stabbing pain that shot through his head as a result.

"Concussion?" It was John's first word in a while.

Dean nodded. "Not too bad, though." He looked at Sam. "No sleeping for a little bit yet."

Sam nodded, more exhausted than he thought was possible. Dean taped up the gash on Sam's head and wiped most of the blood away.

"Sam." John glanced over at Dean. "What happened?"

"Demon." Sam closed his eyes, it made everything a little easier. "Possessed Kyle."

Dean rested his hand on Sam's knee. "Hey, kiddo, either you keep your eyes open or you keep talking."

Sam chose to keep talking. "He waited until you were gone, said he controlled Ann. I tried to draw a pentagon, but there wasn't time. Used all the holy water I had. Said the words and it was over." Sam forced his eyes open.

"Where'd you get the holy water?"

"Brought it along." He smiled a little. "Know your surroundings, Dean." The smile fell. "It said some things."

Dean looked to John. "About what?"

"Me and why mom was killed." He paused. "Dean, my ribs hurt."

John took a bottle of pills from the kit and went to get a glass of water. He returned and handed Sam the pill and the water. Sam's hands shook.

John took the glass back. "What did it say about you?"

Sam paused to remember, everything was sort of hard to remember in detail. "Said we'd be a lot alike."

"You and the demon?"

Sam nodded slightly, his eyes slipped closed again.

"Sammy." Dean squeezed Sam's knee.

He opened his eyes.

"Never gonna happen."

Sam looked away, his jaw tight. "Said you wouldn't come, because of what I was going to be."

"I'm always going to come back for you." Dean moved next to his brother on the couch. "And anything that says different is lying."

Sam nodded.

"How's your head?" Dean changed the direction of the conversation.

"Hurts."

"You feel sick?"

Sam shrugged.

Dean looked over at John. "Let's get you to bed."

John and Dean helped Sam to his feet and guided him to his room. He sunk gratefully onto his bed and Dean pulled the blankets up. He was asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow.

"I'll stay with him." John pulled over a chair.

"You sure you don't have any where else to go?" Dean folded his arms across his chest.

"I screwed up, Dean. I know that."

"Yeah, you did, and it nearly killed your son."

John looked over at Sam. "I know. I checked up on them, though, to make sure it was safe. I thought it was."

That surprised Dean. Guess not even attraction could take the hunter out of someone.

"Yeah, well." Dean paused. "I guess I wasn't there either."

"Get some sleep, Dean. I'll wake him every hour to make sure he's okay." John brushed his hand through Sam's hair. "I'm sorry, Sammy."

Dean went to grab a shower to wash his brother's blood from his hands. Jesus, what a night. He stood under the spray of the shower for a while and just let the water wash over him. His thoughts ran through the night's events and a chill ran through him when he thought about Sam taking on a demon on his own. He and John would have to make it up to him somehow, they'd have to make it right for Sam.


	7. Saturday

Sorry for the delay. And I lied about the 'this being the last chapter' thing when I remembered that Pastor Jim could live close. Sam, and Dean and John for that matter, have a few more things to work out and Jim seems like a good person to hear confessions. Thank you all for the reviews that kept me motivated to keep writing. So here it is. Sam is 14, Dean is 18.

Supernatural is owned by the CW and all that, nothing is mine, I'm just borrowing it to play with.

Thank you all for reading and hopefully I'll post this all in a timely fashion. I'll do my best. Thanks for sticking with me through the absence.

---SN---

John hated to wake Sam after only an hour of sleep, but he had no choice. Sam had hardly moved since he was put to bed, but he hadn't been soundly asleep either. He'd struggled against his blankets.

John rested his hand on Sam's shoulder. "Sam. Come on, Sam."

Even with the gentle manner, Sam still started awake. He half sat up, his ribs shot pain through his chest. The pain leeched the color from his face. John held him and eased him back.

"Easy, Sam." John kept one hand just resting on the center of Sam's chest.

"Dad?" He hardly spoke above a whisper.

"Yeah." John tipped some water into Sam's mouth.

Sam swallowed, coughed a little and winced.

"How's the pain?"

He shrugged, his eyes were already slipping closed again.

"You remember where we are?"

"Home." Sam sighed.

John rested his hand on Sam's head. "That's right. Get some sleep."

It didn't take Sam long to fall asleep.

"Dad?" Dean half sat up.

"He's fine, go back to sleep."

Dean sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. "I wanna sit up with him."

John turned to his oldest. "You should sleep."

"I'll sleep tomorrow." His jaw was set, Sam wasn't the only one with a stubborn streak.

He nodded. "Okay. Wake me in a few hours to take over."

Dean was already half way across the room to take John's seat. John paused in the doorway and looked at his boys. It scared him how quickly he could have lost Sam. Dean was right, he made a mistake and it nearly cost him a son. Sure, he checked into the Jones's to make sure they were okay, but he shouldn't have left. He should have made sure it was safe instead of just trusting his research. He sighed and went to his room.

Sam shifted under the blankets.

Dean brushed his little brother's hair back. "Sammy?"

"Dean?" Sam's eyes blinked open.

"You okay?"

He shook his head slightly and swallowed.

"What's wrong?"

"Don't feel so good."

Dean was expecting that and was ready with a trashcan when Sam rolled to the side of his bed and vomited. That'd be the concussion. In all honesty, Dean was amazed Sam made it this long.

When Sam was just gasping and spitting, Dean helped him take a few sips of water. He eased Sam back against the pillow and stepped out to put a new bag in the trashcan. Dean sat back in the chair and gripped Sam's arm.

"You okay, kiddo?"

Sam didn't answer, didn't have to. His muscles were tight and his breathing shallow and controlled from pain. Being sick with broken ribs was about the worst thing that could happen. A tear traced its way down Sam's cheek. Dean thumbed it away.

Carefully Dean sat Sam up a little and sat behind him. Dean leaned against the wall and placed the pillow against his legs. He eased Sam back and gently rested his arm across his brother's chest. Sam's hand took hold of Dean's hand, kid didn't even have to open his eyes to find it.

Dean ran his hand through Sam's hair. "Get some sleep, Sammy."

"Dean." He whispered.

"Yeah?"

"Don't want to sleep." Sam forced his eyes open.

He looked down at his brother. "Yeah, but you need to. I'm not going anywhere."

He sighed. "Dream about it."

Dean figured he did. "I'll wake you up if your dreams get too bad and I'll be right here when you do wake up. Nothing to worry about. Okay?"

Sam nodded slightly and gave into sleep. He was so very tired.

Sam woke a few more times during the night, from a nightmare, the words the demon had said echoed in his dreams. Every time he woke, Dean was there already whispering words to make it better.

John appeared in the doorway just after sunrise. Dean was asleep with his head leaned back against the wall, his arm around Sam who was turned towards Dean. His head still in his older brother's lap. John walked over to his boys and gently woke Dean. He opened his eyes and automatically looked at Sam.

"How is he?" John whispered.

"All right."

"Why don't you get some real sleep?"

Dean stretched. "I'm fine." He carefully moved off the bed, Sam didn't wake.

"You know, we're not too far from Pastor Jim's. Could be there by this evening if we leave around noon."

"Move again?"

John shrugged. "Job is done. Sam could use some time with Jim."

Dean had to agree. There were things that Sam wasn't telling them, and not that he trusted Jim more than Dean, but sometimes Jim's perspectives on things were needed. They all could use the break and Jim's house had always felt safe like nothing else had.

"Can we ask him first?"

John nodded. "I'm going to check on Ann and Kyle. I'll be back later. Try and get him to eat something when he wakes up."

"Sure."

Dean heard his dad leave and then the house was just quiet. He rested a hand on Sam's forehead, but everything was as good as to be expected. He slipped out of the room and turned on whatever happened to be on the television at that hour.

Sam woke an hour later, from the same nightmare that had plagued him all night. Dean wasn't there and for a moment his heart pounded as he thought it was true. Then he heard the faint noise of the television and took a slow, shaky breath. He slowly eased himself up and waited for the dizziness to go away. His ribs ached as the last pain pill wore off. His head still faintly throbbed and there was a spot that was more than tender just above his left eye. Oh yeah, that pool table.

He stood and made his way out to the living room. He moved slow and let one hand drift along the wall. He didn't want to be alone, he knew that much.

Dean looked over as Sam appeared in the doorway. "What are you doing up?"

He shrugged. "Not much." He smiled a little.

Dean eased Sam over to the couch. "You hungry?"

Sam shrugged again and watched as Dean went into the kitchen and took down oatmeal and a bowl.

"You have a fantastic shiner, Sammy." Dean glanced over at his brother.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Makes you look though."

"I don't feel tough." He sighed.

Dean paused. "Well, you are, kiddo." He turned. "I'm sorry, Sam."

Sam met Dean's eyes. "Stop apologizing. Everything worked out, didn't it?"

"Dad said something about heading over to Pastor Jim's for a bit. It's up to you."

He swallowed and his looked over at something in the room without really seeing it, like he was thinking hard about something. "Yeah, okay."

"We could leave today?"

Sam nodded.

"You don't have to."

"I want to." But his voice was quiet as he said it. "I want to go." He looked back at Dean. "Where's dad?"

He turned back to the oatmeal. "Went to check on Ann and Kyle."

"Could you put cinnamon in the oatmeal, Dean?"

"Way ahead of you, Sammy." He smiled, but it was a little fake.

Dean set the bowl of oatmeal down in front of Sam and set a pain pill next to a glass of water. Sam reached for the pill first, which told Dean a lot of things about his kid brother. Sam was always good at that, telling Dean what was really going on without saying a word. Maybe Dean was just good at reading him after fourteen years of practice.

Sam managed a little more than half of the oatmeal and all of the water. Dean could live with that. It wasn't long before Sam was asleep against the arm of the couch. Dean tugged a blanket over his brother and turned the volume on the television down a little.

John came home a few hours later. "How's Sam?"

"All right, I think. Sore as hell." Dean looked over at him. "Ann and Kyle?"

John sighed and sunk into a kitchen chair. "They don't remember much, Ann more than Kyle, but not much. Which is good."

"You say goodbye?"

He nodded. "What'd Sam say about going to Jim's?"

"Said he wanted to."

"But?"

Dean shrugged. "But nothing. I'll get his stuff together." He stood.

"When are you going to stop being mad at me?"

Dean didn't turn to his father. "I'm not mad at just you." He went towards the bedroom.


	8. Saturday Night

The End! I finished a fanfic! Thank you all for the reviews that kept me motivated to keep writing. You are the best readers anyone could ask for. So here it is, the final chapter. Sam is 14, Dean is 18.

Supernatural is owned by the CW and all that, nothing is mine, I'm just borrowing it to play with.

Thank you all for reading and hopefully I'll post this all in a timely fashion. I'll do my best. Thanks for sticking with me through the absence.

---SN---

Jim was expecting them when they pulled into his driveway. The porch light was already on and a late dinner had been kept warm. He walked out onto the porch and smiled as the interior lights of the cars came on. John got out of the car and raised his hand in greeting, Jim returned it and walked down towards the cars.

Dean had the back door of the car open and was waking Sam. Jim had been told sparse details, something about Sam and a demon. Even though Jim wasn't fully surprised to see Sam beat and bruised, he didn't expect John and Dean to be unscathed.

"How was the drive?"

John opened the trunk and pulled out a bag. "Uneventful."

"How are the boys?"

"That's a longer answer." John started towards the house and stopped. "I don't know how to fix this, Jim."

John went inside. Jim went over to Dean and Sam. Sam had woken, but hadn't moved from the backseat.

"Dean, why don't you head on in." Jim rested his hand on the boy's shoulder.

Dean looked at Sam who nodded slightly. He grabbed two bags from the back and headed towards the house. Sam carefully moved out of the car. Jim's trained eye picked out broken ribs along with the black eye and cut.

"How are you, Sam?"

Sam didn't meet Jim's eyes. "Fine. A little sore."

Jim eased his arm around Sam's shoulders. "You don't have to be fine, if you're not."

Sam nodded, his jaw tight.

"There's dinner inside, you hungry?"

He shrugged. Jim guided him towards the house, but Sam stopped.

"Sam, would you like to go for a walk with me after dinner?"

He shifted. "Don't know how far I could go." He unconsciously held an arm around his ribs.

"Mostly it'd just be talking."

"About what happened?"

Jim nodded a little. "If that's what you want. It might help."

"And not tell my dad or Dean?"

"If that's what you want."

Sam held out his hand. "Promise? Just between you and me?"

Jim took Sam's hand and shook. "You and me and the lord."

Sam smiled a little and Jim put his arm around the boy again. They walked up to the house.

Dinner was filled with stories of past hunts, the ones that turned out weird or funny mostly.

Dean smirked. "Remember that farmer you surprised in Iowa?"

John laughed. "Came running from the house butt naked, waving a shotgun."

"I think I was about nine." He shuddered. "Thank god it was nearly dark."

Sam didn't eat much, he still wasn't very hungry. He hung on to bits of the conversation, but he was tired. He didn't mind just drifting in the wake of the stories. Dean kept an eye on his brother and knew Sam was pretending. Hell, the kid had been beat to hell the night before. He should have been resting, camped out on the couch with pillows and blankets and movies. Sam wouldn't have let that happen, though, he didn't want idle time. His thoughts would wander and he didn't like the direction they headed in. Dean guessed that, but Sam wasn't venturing anything.

"What?" Sam caught Dean staring. "You're not my type."

"Definitely not." He smirked. "You okay?"

He nodded and took another small bite. Jim caught his eyes and smiled a little.

Sam pushed back his chair. "Could I be excused?"

John looked from Sam's plate to his face. "Did you eat enough?"

He nodded.

"Finish your milk."

Sam reached for his glass, his hands shook a little.

"Your ribs hurt?" He met Sam's and knew it was true.

John pulled a bottle of pills from his pocket and dumped one out near Sam's plate.

"Thanks." Sam whispered and took the pill.

He finished his milk and stood. He put his plate on the counter next to the sink and went into the living room. He was tired and the couch was inviting. He sunk against the pillows and closed his eyes. His ribs throbbed and his head still felt a little tender. He listened to the continued conversation from the kitchen and wondered if someday, he'd have stories like that. This definitely wouldn't be a story like that, this was something he wanted to forget.

Jim came into the room. "Sam?"

Sam looked over at him.

"Still want to go?" He held out a sweatshirt for Sam.

He slowly stood and put on the sweatshirt. They walked out the front door and headed towards the road. They didn't walk very fast, just sort of wondered. The night was cool and quite. Sam started to feel relaxed for the first time in a while.

"How have things been?" Sam glanced over.

"Fine. How's school?"

"Good. I did a paper on Mark Twain."

Jim nodded. "I bet you aced it."

He smiled a little. "Kinda." He paused and swallowed. "How much did my dad tell you about what happened?"

"What you told him."

Sam stopped. "I know that demons lie, but sometimes, do they tell the truth?"

"Depends about what, I suppose. What's on your mind?"

"Have you ever spoken to a demon?"

Jim nodded. "It was in one of my friends. I didn't know if I could save him. It told me a lot of things that I knew weren't true. Everything worked out all right, though."

Sam caught his bottom lip between his teeth. "What if it said some things that could be true?"

"Like what?"

He looked away and pulled his hands inside his sleeves. "It said, it told me. Said I was the reason my mom was killed and that I would end up being like a demon. It said dad was starting to figure it out." He ventured a look over at Jim. "What if it's right?" He whispered.

"Is that what's worrying you?"

He nodded and a tear traced down his cheek. He wiped it away impatiently and took a shuddering breath.

Jim rested his hands on Sam's shoulders. "I don't know what happened that night, Sam, or why. But I do know, that you will always have a choice over who you become. You are too strong and smart to go anywhere without a fight when you know it's wrong." He smiled a little. "Your stubbornness is a blessing, Sam."

"Dad wouldn't say so." Sam smiled weakly. "But, am I going to be like it?"

"No. Never." He lifted Sam's chin. "There is too much good in you for anything like that to ever happen. Understand?"

He nodded. "I'm still scared."

"Sam, you have seen things and know about things boys your age should never know. Yet, you are a light to everyone who meets you, that is a blessing and a gift. It's all right to be scared, but you are also equipped to win. Both with the training you have been given and the light that shines in you."

He blushed and was glad it was too dark to see it.

"Besides, your brother and father won't let anything happen to you. They love you so much more then they ever say and love is the most powerful thing you have against all the dark things out there."

Sam was getting tired and Jim knew that.

"Sam, I am and will always be very honored to know you."

It was one of the first times he had been spoken to like an adult, like a hunter, like a friend rather than the kid of a friend.

"Thanks."

Jim could hear the fatigue in Sam's voice. "Let's head inside and see what sort of trouble your father and brother have gotten into. They need so much looking after."

"Yeah." He laughed a little.

Sam and Jim walked back towards the house. They stepped into the living room and John and Dean looked up from the TV horror movie.

Dean met Sam's eyes. "You okay?"

Sam nodded. For the first time in nearly a week, he did. His eyes were a little less troubled and he was a little more relaxed. Dean moved over on the couch and Sam sat down next to him. Jim handed John a bottle of beer.

"You and Sam work things out?" John kept his voice low so the boys wouldn't hear.

"I think so."

"You aren't going to tell me what was said, are you?"

Jim smiled. "No. I promised Sam that it would stay between us. He'll be okay, John. He's strong" He looked over at Sam, asleep on Dean's shoulder. "And he has Dean."

That night, Sam didn't wake from nightmares of the monster he was told he would become. He still would dream of it from time to time, but it didn't scare him like it had before. Dean didn't ask Sam what he talked with Jim about, to be honest, he didn't care all that much. Whatever was said, Sam was back to his old self and all Dean ever wanted was for Sam to be okay.

They stayed at Jim's for a week. A week of peace and safety. They went there for Sam, but it turned out that they all needed it.


End file.
